Mercy
by macrauchenia
Summary: Even if he could have seen the blade, she doubted that he would have been able to comprehend what she was about to do. He was too far gone. He wasn't Armin anymore. Mercy was hers to give, but she knew it would be denied to her. [AruAni] [Character Death] [Eventual Reincarnation!AU]


**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Not a thing, unfortunately.  
**Warning: **Ehh, some blood and descriptions. Naturally character death since this _is_ a reincarnation fic. But that makes it better, right?

**Author's Note: **I'm not even sorry for what I'm doing now. Somebody better stop me before this starts an epidemic of torturing this poor ship. This was actually my idea for the AruAni week theme "Until We Meet Again," but I was too busy to make it pretty and emotional and ready for publishing. So now I fixed it up for you so you can hate me more.

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"To die and part is a less evil; but to part and live, there, there is the torment."

-George Lansdowne

Annie knew it was inevitable. The final battle for humanity. Although she didn't know if she would be alive to glimpse it, she knew all of their work, all of their fighting would culminate to one last gruesome struggle. Humans and titans. Mortals and the unnaturally grotesque.

Annie also had no idea how the sides would fall. Initially she imagined the final battle between freedom and death to be fought between her fellow titan-shifters and a few devoted, nearly suicidal Survey Corps members. Namely, Humanity's Strongest and the rest of the blonde's tattered recruit division.

However, her predictions and expectations quickly fell apart at the surprising development of the battle. As she glanced around the wide expanse of the battlefield, a sense of unwarranted nostalgia struck her. They were not warring in the capital or along the tall, fortified walls of one of the cities. The soldiers were instead launching wave upon wave of assaults on the titan-shifters from rather disadvantageous locations on the ground. Instead of fighting where their 3DMG would be most beneficial, the collected mass of Survey Corps, Garrison Brigade, and Military Police soldiers attacked Annie and her comrades relentlessly from the grassy plain where the female titan first made her debut all those years ago. The surprise attack severely damaged the titan-shifters' chance at countering, and Annie had a better-than-vague idea on who had come up with the ingenious plan.

Although the casualties were high on humanity's side, the final chance to rid life of titans made even Annie's former acquaintances in the Military Police appear useful. However, the majority of the effective attacks were predictably led by the courageous members of the Scouting Legion.

Eren, Mikasa, Jean. Connie and Sasha. Christa and Ymir, the latter of whom somehow managing to switch sides one last final time.

_Armin,_ a small voice reminded her in the back of her mind.

Annie had yet to see any of them yet from her elevated perch upon the Female Titan's nape, but she had once heard Eren's triumphant bellow thunder across the plain at the start of the battle.

Bertholdt was only a few hundred meters from her, struggling in vain against the combined attacks of Humanity's Strongest and Mikasa. She noted out of the corner of her peripheral vision the Colossal Titan's ineffective attempts to dip his neck away from Mikasa's furious blades.

Annie turned her gaze away from her comrade. There was no hope for him anymore. There was no hope for any of them. Even if he managed to break himself free from his position on the Colossal Titan's neck, Bertholdt would be immediately slain by either of the two deadly forces the moment the smoke cleared. They would not allow him to escape a third time.

Even though the Colossal Titan's skinned, muscular face held no expressive emotion, Annie could image Bertholdt's partially relieved, partially terrified face when they would finally manage to cut him from the neck and end his guilty suffering.

She had yet to see the Armored Titan on the battlefield, but she knew Reiner would not go down nearly as complacently. Perhaps that's why she couldn't spot the shining glint of his armor amongst the carnage—they had already killed Reiner first, as he was their biggest threat.

Annie knew it was only a matter of time before several of the elite members of the Survey Corps targeted her. Perhaps Eren himself would be the one to incapacitate her, finally finishing the job he started all those years ago. Perhaps they were saving her for last.

She knew she was hardly a threat anymore.

Annie's efforts throughout the entire battle were weak, merely defensive strikes. She spent the majority of her time fending off more titans hungry for her unique flesh than actual soldiers. Whether it was from the reeling exhaustion from being freed from her crystal tomb or the overwhelming sense of her eminent defeat, Annie felt little emotion as she snapped each titan neck or hissing cord. As if from a foggy cloud far above the battle, she simply watched the events unfold with a mild detachment, searching for familiar faces of former friends turned foe. Her subconscious ached for one last glimpse of a particular face, wondering if he wore the same weary expression as her, but her battle-hardened mind reminded her that he was too frail to take part in such a risky attack. He would either be dead or behind the front line. Annie was surprised to feel a sharp sting of pain in her gut at the thought of either of the scenarios coming true.

A vicious jab along her Achilles tendon ripped the girl from her dwellings and she eyed the battleground with renewed interest. Crouched on the ground only a mere dozen meters away, Jean glared at her, gripping steaming blades tightly in his fists. Annie turned towards her assailant, only to be sliced again by a double attack comprising of Connie and Sasha. The three gathered in a loose triangle surrounding the Female Titan, little remorse or pity staining their dead stares.

Feeling another overwhelming urge to escape in any means necessary, Annie lunged with her good arm towards the nearest soldier, sending Connie spinning in a tightly coiled retreat. The others stepped back as two misshapen titans turned their ugly, blank stares on the three humans. Annie took the opportunity to back away, knowing it was only a matter of time before they found her again.

Another triumphant roar from Eren echoed throughout the grassy green, followed by loud cheers from the soldiers. Annie's wide eyes lingered on the Colossal Titan's decapitated, smoking form before it collapsed upon itself in a hot rush of air.

She was the only one left now. There would be no offer of mercy. No opportunity for redemption. Jean's attack on her Achilles severely limited her range of motion and Annie knew she only had one chance for survival.

Gritting her teeth, Annie forcibly yanked her consciousness from the hot, fleshy cocoon encompassing her lithe body and greedily gulped a deep breath of fresh air. Sticky, damp vapor blew past her clammy face, tossing back the frayed blonde ends of her hair and stinging her scarred, encrusted eyes. Annie knew she only had a few moments before her defunct construct deflated upon itself and alerted the others of her attempt to escape. Annie weakly crawled from the neck and used her stolen 3DMG to precariously scale the trembling, steaming carcass.

The moment her trembling feet hit the ground, she was limping across the battlefield as fast as she could. She felt something warm trickle down her side and it was only after another sharp stab of pain did the girl finally notice that an injury she had received before transforming had reopened. The girl's once determined strides faltered to a pathetic stumble as the wound sapped her remaining energy. She dropped to her knees to catch her breath and regroup.

Annie twined her fingers in the blood-stained grass, yanking out tufts with a stony expression. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry and give up. She didn't want to feel anymore. She wanted to die, but she also wanted to kill.

However, the girl quickly swallowed her inappropriate emotions with a forced expression of indifference and struggled into a squatting position, keeping one hand clasped firmly to her free-flowing wound. She strained her neck slightly as she studied her surroundings in the green field. Smoking skeletons of titans and bloodied, mangled human remains littered the previously smooth, peaceful plain. Annie could summon up no more pity, even at the sight of a digested Military Police uniform only a few feet away. She tilted her head to the left, freezing as a glittering shine caught her eye. Annie slowly turned, feeling an icy wave of dread wash over her weary limbs.

Tousled blond hair and deep crimson.

_No…_

As quickly as she could, the girl half stumbled, half crawled to the soldier's side, ignoring the fiery, pulsing ache in her own abdomen.

_No…_ she echoed. Her wide, crystalline eyes slowly absorbed each detail of the wounded soldier's condition. His breath came out in hiccup-y, pained bursts as his chest struggled with each rise and fall. The boy's eyes were squeezed tightly closed and his face was dangerously pale with a deep purple bruise lining his temple and blood creeping out from his left nostril and the corner of his mouth. Periodically, his stained lips would rise in a pained gasp, revealing crimson dyed teeth and a darting, parched tongue.

Annie's gaze traveled down to his abdomen, dreading what she would find next. The blond soldier gasped as he pressed one trembling hand firmly against his side. Annie could smell the overwhelming tang of blood and death and noted with another shudder of horror that he was barely managing to keep his internal organs from tumbling out through a gaping hole in the side of his stomach. Annie could see the horrible, pristine glean of his ivory ribs through his splayed fingers. His other fist fumbled along the sticky crimson grass, desperately trying to find some sort of hold on the slickened, dirty surface.

"Armin…?" Annie whispered hoarsely. She hated how weak and uncertain her voice was. She had seen far worse in her time as a soldier. She had caused far worse and relished the power. Why did this affect her so strongly?

The boy did not respond apart from grunting and gasping more, arching his back slightly from the overwhelming waves of agony coursing through his system.

Annie swallowed and repeated her hesitant question. "Armin?"

Suddenly the blond soldier's brow softened and for a moment Annie feared that she lost him in that moment. After an agonizing period of stillness, his blue eyes slowly peeled themselves open and fixed blurrily on her scarred face. His eyes focused momentarily on hers and a weak smile flickered across the boy's face.

"An-nie…?" He murmured, pausing halfway through her name to gag at the blood trapped in his dry windpipe.

"Armin," Annie repeated one more time, reaching for the hand at his side. She caught the quivering appendage in her own trembling hand, feeling his thin fingers flutter weakly against her palm like a trapped, dying sparrow.

"Am I dea—" the boy broke off in another coughing fit, causing crimson to dot his parted lips. His pain-sharpened blue eyes lost their brilliance and Annie had to squeeze his hand tighter to elicit a stronger response.

"You aren't dead," Annie whispered back in a surprisingly steady voice. "You're just dreaming."

"Dreaming?" Confusion clouded across the boy's features, replacing pain and suffering.

"Dreaming," Annie confirmed, hating the hopeful, ethereal smile bleeding into Armin's expression. She hated lying to him, but somehow she felt it was absolutely necessary. She knew her lies were incredibly unconvincing, which only revealed the true extent of the boy's damage. If he had been in any salvageable condition, he would have called her bluff immediately with a fond smile.

He tried to rise, but Annie gently pushed him back down, placing her other hand, still encasing the boy's shuddering fingers, on the injury to try to further stem the bleeding. At that point, the damage was so severe that the blond didn't even seem conscious of the fact that his lifeblood was draining away into the parched earth around him.

"That's why you're here then," the boy gasped, falling back heavily against the darkened grass.

"What?" Annie blinked once, then twice.

"To say goodbye," the boy murmured distractedly. His sightless blue eyes roamed towards the sky, his enlarged pupils quivering unnaturally in the bright sunlight. "Before I wake up…"

Annie swallowed once. She knew what she had to do. He tricked her and he manipulated her feelings to the point of insanity, but he was still her friend. She couldn't let him suffer like this anymore.

Still keeping one hand wrapped tightly around his quaking, sticky fingers, Annie gently reached for one of the boy's discarded and shattered blades. She positioned herself to be lightly straddling the boy, holding the shining, crimson-stained out of the boy's dazed line of sight. Even if he could have seen the blade, she doubted he would have realized what she was about to do. He was too far gone. He wasn't Armin anymore.

"This is goodbye, Armin," Annie whispered softly. After angling the steely, shattered tip of the blade over the boy's left chest cavity, she leaned forward and lightly brushed her lips against the boy's bruised temple.

"Annie?" he whispered faintly. Annie felt the boy's thin eyelashes flutter weakly against her cool skin.

"Sleep well, Armin." Annie squeezed her eyes shut and pressed heavily down on the blade. The blond made no cry of shock or pain, but his body pulsed reflexively at the cold contact. A low cry broke from her lips, masking the sickening sound of the metal piercing the boy's heart and rib cage. Something warm and sticky welled around Annie's splayed palm, forcing the girl to stare furiously at the sky above her and bit her lip. Eventually, the struggling rising and falling of Armin's chest subsided into a still silence. She waited for a moment longer, just to be sure.

Annie slowly pulled herself off of the prone boy and glanced down at his face with a blank expression. His eyes were closed in a peaceful sleep, his smile vaguely hopeful and serene amongst the blood and destruction.

Annie felt a relieved sensation rush through her veins chased afterwards by anguish. She saved him from pain, only to damn herself to eternal guilt and sorrow. Mercy was hers to give, but she knew it would be denied to her.

"_Armin!"_

Annie turned her head weakly, eyeing the approaching soldiers with a detached expression. Although Connie was the one who had shouted from across the field, Mikasa was far closer, running towards the blonde with an expression simultaneously blank and menacing.

The message was clear: Annie was going to die.

Annie raised her fists in a sign of weak defiance, sparing one last glance at the Armin's eternally expression of calm.

She was comforted by the knowledge that when she fell, she would at least fall with him.

* * *

"Come on, Armin!"

"Go! Don't let 'em get ya!"

The sound of metal striking against metal rang throughout the gymnasium like a beaten war drum.

"Look out for your blind spo—ugh!"

Disappointed groans rose from the student sections and Armin winced at the sudden prick against his chest. He blinked slowly as his startled gaze dropped to the blunt-tipped foil pressed firmly in his chest, skewering the tiny emblem of wings that served as his team's mascot. His chest ached from a distant memory, as if the touch had reopened a past wound, though the boy was certain he had lost many times in that exact spot before. He wasn't exactly what one would call a fencing master—only participating in the activity to satisfy his more excitable friend.

"It's alright, Armin!" Eren called loudly from the benches. "You'll get 'em next time!"

The blond ripped off his helmet, breathing heavily in the cool air of the gymnasium. He was certain his face was flushed an unattractive crimson, though he hardly cared at the moment.

Armin sauntered slowly back to the bench, rubbing at his tender chest subconsciously. It was embarrassing to continually lose, and often times during matches, his opponent would eventually let him have at least one touch. However, this mysterious opponent, who had yet to remove his or her equipment, granted no mercy whatsoever.

"It's no big deal, Armin," Connie chattered absently to Armin's side. "At the end I swear you almost had hi—ohh, man…" the boy broke off with a widened, exchanged stare with Eren.

Armin followed Connie's eyes and frowned. His opponent gently pulled off her helmet, revealing a messy, blonde bun and delicately frowning lips.

"Dude, you lost to a _girl_," Connie snickered in Armin's reddening ear.

"If I recall, Springer, Sasha totally kicked your ass in practice—"

_ "Je-an!"_

Armin paid little attention to the bickering behind him. His curious, shining blue eyes slowly followed the solemn girl as she walked stiffly back to her side of the gymnasium. Although she had won the match beautifully, there was no joy or triumph coloring her blank features. Instead, she looked just as miserable as if she had been the one who had lost horribly. Something about that expression seemed painfully familiar to Armin, though he knew this was the first time their small fencing team had ever crossed paths with the more elite Titans.

Before he could stop himself, he was already on his feet and heading in the girl's direction. She ignored her teammates' earnest congratulations and settled heavily on the bench with a bored sigh.

Armin stepped in front of her and hesitated before forcing a smile.

"That was really amazing," he began enthusiastically.

The girl's slow gaze traveled up the boy's white uniform, lingering for a moment more on the faded emblem of wings she had impaled only minutes previously. If any spark of recognition leapt into her eyes, Armin couldn't find it in time before it was replaced with her typical scowl.

Slowly the blonde dragged her emotionless, scrutinizing stare to Armin's face, studying him silently with barely narrowed eyes. Armin had a feeling she was still sizing him up like competition, as if they hadn't yet truly left the fencing strip.

Armin extended his still-gloved hand out to the girl with another encouraging smile.

"Armin Arlert."

The blonde considered his hand before encompassing it in her own grip. Armin felt his fingers flutter weakly from the girl's firm pressure on the warm, protective glove. His chest ached, but not unpleasantly.

"Annie Leonhardt," she responded with a faint smile of her own.

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**Thank you so much for reading! **Let me know what you think! Someday (not today, mind you) I'll write something fluffy. Ehh, maybe.


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